


The Thorns on the Flower

by GwendolynGrace



Category: Baroness Orczy - The Scarlet Pimpernel, The Scarlet Pimpernel (1982), The Scarlet Pimpernel - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Yuletide 2009
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 04:52:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwendolynGrace/pseuds/GwendolynGrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sir Andrew can't quite believe that Tony is his. Especially since he used to be Percy's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Thorns on the Flower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [k8](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=k8).



1790

 

1

No-one could be certain who first predicted that Robespierre and his zealots would soon enough commit a rout of the entire aristocracy, but every-one was sure that it could not be tolerated. And they were equally convinced that there could be but one man to lead them. One to lead, the rest to follow. At first, Andrew thought Tony might put him-self forward, particularly with Ned Hastings and John Bathurst encouraging him. He suppressed a little shudder at the thought that they might thus be parted. But he ought to have known better: His Tony had no more ego than he had dishonour.

His Tony.

It surprised him how quickly he had come to think of him such. They all were the very best of friends, certes, and if perhaps a few of them sighed more for Percy with his quick smile and ready wit, well, it could not be denied that Percy was the best of them all.

"It must be Percy!" Andrew said aloud without at first realizing he had done.

"Yes, Percy!" Saint Denys agreed immediately, and then Tony as well, which had put Ned and John right off their notion that he might support their nomination.

"Of course Percy," Mackenzie said, "But how shall we tell him he must do it?"

"No need," Percy's voice announced by the door. They had none of them heard him enter. Although his garb looked immaculate and fashionable as ever, he moved with a purpose that was entirely unlike the picture he presented to the Court. His face shone with a spark of intelligence that few ever were privileged to behold. "Ah, Tony, I see you've assembled them. Gentlemen, I have asked Lord Antony to bring you here tonight to join me on a most secret and dangerous mission. We shall sail for France, where we shall infiltrate the very Bastille itself and there rescue the Comte d'Issoire and his family."

Andrew stared at Tony as if he had never before seen him. "You knew Percy already had a plan?" he asked.

"My dear Andrew, Lord Antony has been with me from the first, from the moment I learned of the Revolution and its goal to destroy the fabric of France," Percy said amiably. "You know, of course, that Tony and I have been friends these last three years?"

"Andrew, Percy and I know each other - very well," Tony supplied quietly. His eyes sought Andrew's with a sort of pleading look. Andrew fell silent.

"If you join me, you must all make a solemn vow," Percy continued. "Never to let your families know what you do on behalf of our cousins to the south. It is impossible to know who supports Robespierre and who does not - not our friends, necessarily," he said quickly, holding up a hand to stay John's protest, "but perhaps their servants or guests. Robespierre has spies as well. Therefore you must be absolutely certain that you can keep your activities secret. It is a hard thing, never to tell some sweet girl that you are a hero. Never to let your mothers or sisters know that when you leave your estates, you may not return. For make no mistake, gentlemen, our duty calls us to a dangerous mission. But if you are the men I believe you to be, you will swear by your honour that you will reveal the truth to no-one. Will you do this?"

"Aye," Andrew said, looking at Tony, who had spoken along with the others. But Tony had eyes only for Percy. Andrew tore his gaze from Tony to their true leader. Percy's face, usually so open and pleasant, had darkened with the serious tone he adopted now. Yes, there could only be one to lead them, that was true. It wasn't Tony's fault he was in love with Percy. Who wasn't in love with him, at least a little?

"Are you all prepared to risk your lives to save the innocent?"

"Aye!" they chorused.

"And shall you all, my friends, protect each other and pledge to follow my orders without question, for the sake of our compact?"

"Aye!" they all said.

"Then welcome," Percy said. He smiled, and when he smiled his face restored itself to the god-like beauty that Tony so clearly adored. "Welcome to the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel."

 

2

Thus it was that Tony and Andrew found themselves at an inn in Dover, waiting to sail to France. Their room was cozy and comfortable, and if they had told the innkeep that sharing a bed did not fuss them, well, he need not know that more than sleeping was planned for between its sheets.

"He's a demmed good speaker, when he sets his mind to it," Andrew observed.

"He cultivates that air of stupidity and boredom," Tony explained. "But you have seen him before, when he has felt it safe to show you all his real self."

"And did you know the real self first, or the false one?" Andrew asked bitterly.

"Tut, m'dear fellow," Tony said, lazily touching Andrew's forelock. "Whatever was between me and Percy, it's over." He bent his head to capture Andrew's lips.

Andrew shifted to press his hands on Tony's chest. Their kiss deepened, tongues sliding against each other. Tony ran his fingers down Andrew's nightshirt, lifting the hem to stroke Andrew's thigh. Andrew swallowed the protest he was about to make, instead reaching for the lacings at Tony's shirtfront. He broke the kiss to feather his lips down Tony's neck and nibble between the crossed laces. Tony chuckled; the vibrations made Andrew's cheek tremble.

"What's so funny?" he asked, shifting to straddle Tony, knee to knee and hip to hip.

"Percy made us promise not to tell our loved ones about the risks we take for the League," Tony explained. He lifted Andrew's hem further to expose the well-muscled chest and taut stomach. Andrew pulled the shirt over his head and then returned the favour, lifting Tony up to tug his shirt over his back.

"Loved one, is that what I am?" Andrew teased.

"Very much," Tony said in all seriousness. "And I'm very grateful that we, at least, can tell each other of our exploits, and our trials." He cupped Andrew's jaw in one strong hand, ran his thumb over Andrew's bottom lip. "Forget about Percy," he urged. "We all love him; you will too, if you don't already. I'd advise you to take advantage, if you ever get the opportunity," he continued drolly, running his hands down Andrew's back to squeeze his arse tenderly, "but meanwhile, love me. Your Tony."

"Mine," Andrew said. "I like the sound of that." He dipped his head to Tony's chest, determined to leave a mark of ownership.

 

3

The Comte was excessively grateful for the rescue. He established a modest household in the country, where Sir Andrew and Lord Antony were always welcome to visit. It was on one of these country week-ends that Percy found them. He had but recently met Marguerite, and although Tony would never dream of questioning his friend, commander, and former lover's affection for the woman, Andrew knew he nonetheless disapproved.

"She's beautiful and charming and devilish clever," Tony had complained over a companionable hand of cards. "She's bound to find out about him sooner or later."

'Percy has successfully eluded the entire French army and half of Robespierre's lieutenants," Andrew reminded him. "I think he can handle one actress."

"Ah, but half of Robespierre's lieutenants do not share his bed," Tony pointed out. "At least, I should hope not!"

Andrew looked up sharply. "So that's it. You're jealous."

"No, of course not," Tony protested. He glanced over his shoulder to verify that no servant was in the room. "I told you that's all over. I've been quite happy. I love you."

"But you're still jealous of Marquerite St. Just." Andrew grinned. "It's all right. I don't blame you. You said once that I should fall in love with Percy myself, if I had not done already."

"And you have?" Tony surmised.

"Oh, you were right all along, m'dear, I was already in love. But not like I was - am - with you." Andrew laid down his hand. "But you sound like you have some unfinished business with Percy."

"Percy made his choice," Tony said tightly, "and I've made mine."

Andrew wasn't so sure, however, and he could never deny Tony anything. Poor Percy seemed to need his friend's approval of his chosen bride, and while Tony said the right words, the warmth was missing from them. Andrew knew he had to take action to protect the League.

That night, he waited until their hosts had retired for the evening and found his way from his room down the hallway to Percy's. A shilling to the footmen had ensured that the corridor would be empty and Percy's door marked with a single streak of bootblack. Andrew scratched on the door discreetly.

He heard Percy curse softly on the other side and the sound of rustling cloth. A moment later the door opened a crack, then wider as Percy saw him. "Andrew? My dear fellow, it's dashed late--"

"I know, Percy. But it's of vital importance. It's Tony."

"Tony?" His face went from perplexed to concerned in a trice.

"Will you come with me?" Andrew asked.

"Of...of course," Percy agreed.

It was a short walk to Tony's room, where Andrew again scratched on the door. But this time, he did not wait for Tony to answer, and instead entered with Percy in tow.

Tony was half-asleep, but had been expecting him, as was their custom. "Is that you?" he muttered.

"Yes," Andrew whispered, looking at Percy. "Tony, love, I've brought company."

"Hm?" Tony grunted.

Percy's eyes widened in comprehension. "Andrew. Do you mean to say that you and Tony...." He beamed at the younger man. "Oddsfish, Andrew, good for you both. Demmed strange way to tell me, but--"

"Percy. Dash it all, man, this isn't about me and Tony. Rather, it is, but not...not your approval. It's about you and Tony."

"Ah," Percy said with a twinge of guilt. "Well, you see, Andrew, Tony and I, we...that's...that's all over. An infatuation, call it. Marguerite is a wonderful woman, truly."

"Marguerite be hanged, Percy," Andrew said in frustration. "Tony really does wish you happy, but I think there's one way to ensure that the League is not endangered by this turn of events."

"Zounds, don't worry about her. I can fool her," Percy replied confidently.

"About this?" Andrew asked and before he could lose his resolve, kissed Percy hungrily.

Percy paused only a moment before grabbing the back of Andrew's head and nearly devouring his mouth. "Well, that does rather change things. Are you sure?" he asked when he came up for air.

"Yes. Very sure. For Tony, anything."

"Not for Tony, altogether," Percy verified. Andrew almost thought he could credit a hint of doubt in Percy's voice.

"Not altogether for Tony," Andrew said, smiling, happy to offer the reassurance Percy desired. He took Percy's hands, kissed him again, and led him to the bed.

Tony had not quite stirred when they sank onto the mattress to either side of him. They took great pleasure in waking him together.


End file.
